Chapter 28

CHAPTE R TWENTY-EIGHT

She was so cold. Audrey had told her not to move until she came back for her, but that had been hours ago. She gazed around the room. Where was she? Even though she hadn't received the last shot, the effects of all the others were still messing with her mind. They'd gone out the back door and then walked to this place. Was it a storage shed? Audrey said she'd drive by and get her when she could. Should she leave? Try to find help? Or just wait the way Audrey had instructed? What if she'd been caught? If so, they'd soon be looking for her, too. She grabbed the edge of a nearby storage shelf and pulled herself up. Immediately, the room began to swim. She used her other hand to steady herself, praying that the world would stop spinning. Finally, when she felt steadier, she gazed around her. She could see the door they'd come through. She'd just decided to open it, so she could figure out where she was, when the doorknob began to turn. Panic set in and she tried to run, but she was too unsteady on her feet, and she fell to the hard floor. Pain exploded in her wrist, and she yelped. She attempted to pull herself along the floor using her other hand, but she couldn't move quickly enough to hide. When someone put their hands on her, she cried out.

"Hush, it's me. Be quiet or someone might hear you. My car's outside. We need to leave before they realize you're gone. I fixed your bed to make it look like you're in it, and I marked your chart as if I'd given you your meds. But the next shift nurse will be checking on you before long. We don't have much time."

Although she tried to understand what Audrey was trying to tell her, nothing made much sense except that she was out of the hospital, and they were leaving. That was all that mattered.

Audrey helped her up, and she leaned on the kind nurse as they walked out of the building and hurried to Audrey's car. When she got inside, the warm air surrounded her like a hug. She stared out the window. She'd dreamt about leaving before, only to be disappointed when she woke up and realized it was a dream. She began to cry and pray that this was real. That she really was on her way to freedom.

"Don't cry," Audrey said gently. "We'll make it. I can't take you to my place. They'll look there. We're going to a motel for a while. You need to get all that stuff out of your system. We also need to get you cleaned up. I brought some clothes that should fit you."

It was then that she looked down and realized she was only wearing a hospital gown and the coat Audrey had given her. Her feet were still in those weird yellow booties the hospital kept on her feet. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn real shoes, and she wanted to. More than anything.

"I hope you didn't break your wrist," Audrey said. "We'll stop at a drug store and get you something to support it. I can't give you anything stronger than acetaminophen. I hope it will control your pain."

She smiled and laid her head back on the seat. "I don't care about that. I'm free. I'm finally free." After that, she allowed herself to drift off, feeling warm, relaxed, and happier than she'd been in a very long time.

TED'S MOTHER WAS A FRAIL WOMAN who looked beaten down by life. Although she was moving slowly around her kitchen, a wheelchair sat in the corner. Besides dealing with physical issues, it was obvious that her son's death had affected her greatly. Her small house showed neglect, as did she. It seemed as if she'd just stopped caring. Tony felt great empathy for her.

"Thank you for seeing me," Tony told her after sitting down at her kitchen table.

Mrs. Piper carried a half-full carafe of coffee over to the table, holding onto the chairs with her other hand. She shakily poured the hot liquid into a cup faded by age. Although Tony didn't want coffee, he thanked her. She put the carafe back on the old coffeemaker and then took the seat next to him.

"You're welcome," she said. "No one has asked about Ted for a while. I'm happy someone still cares about what happened to him."

"My partner and I are trying to locate a missing woman who investigated cold cases. Your son's case was one of them."

"You think this woman's disappearance has something to do with my Ted's death?"

"I don't know," Tony said. "Right now, we're looking at every case she was investigating to see if one of them might be connected." He took a sip of coffee, then said, "I know this may seem like an odd question, but did the police find any flowers at the scene?"

Mrs. Piper frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"We've found a couple of other deaths where flowers were left behind," Tony said. When he originally decided to talk to Ted's mother, his main goal was to get information. But he and River were both learning that writing profiles inside the confines of the FBI was very different from looking into the eyes of those affected by the criminals they profiled. Mrs. Piper was in pain, and at that moment, Tony was second-guessing his decision to resurrect her anguish. The only reason he was here was because of some old dogwood flowers that may have nothing to do with April's disappearance or Ted's death. He was getting ready to apologize for taking her time and leave when she grabbed his arm. She peered into Tony's eyes, a tear running down her cheek.

"A lady called me once about those flowers," she said, her voice trembling. "It was a long time ago. I think her name was ... April. I told her the police said they didn't have anything to do with my Ted. Now you're asking about them. Are you saying they meant something after all?"

"I can't be sure, Mrs. Piper," Tony said. "Like I said, my partner and I are just looking into what happened. I ... I don't suppose you saw the flowers?"

Mrs. Piper nodded. "I went to the spot where he died. They were lying on the ground where Teddy was found. White flowers. Silk. I think they're called dogwood flowers."

A chill ran down Tony's spine and it wasn't because Mrs. Piper's house was cold. The deaths were connected. He and River may have just uncovered a serial killer.

TONY RUSHED BACK TO THE OFFICE and hurried up the stairs. When he unlocked the office door and stepped inside, River looked up at him and frowned.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," she said.

"First of all, that phrase is supposed to denote guilt," he said. "I don't feel guilty. Secondly, the last time I heard someone say that, it was my grandmother.

"Okay, okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "So, why do you look the way you do?"

Tony sat down and quickly told her what he'd learned from Mrs. Piper.

"So, Shelly and Ted's deaths might actually be connected?" River said. "Why didn't the police suspect it?"

Tony sat down at his desk. "As far as Ted's mother knows, the flowers weren't even entered into the police report. The police decided they were already there and had nothing to do with Ted's death. Seems April contacted Mrs. Piper before she disappeared and asked about the flowers. She told her exactly what she told me. That she saw the flowers herself after Ted's body was removed."

"Okay. The police also didn't seem to think it was important that Shelly had flowers in her hand when they found her body," River said.

Tony could hear the frustration in her voice, and he shared it. "After I talked to Mrs. Piper, I found a number for Shelly's aunt and called her. She said that Shelly's father told the police that his daughter loved flowers and probably just had them with her when she fell. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but I guess he was in a lot of shock when Shelly died. She was his only child, and they were very close. Seems like the police never followed up on the flowers."

"They need to reopen these cases," River said.

"The way they treated me when I talked to them, we're going to need some help," Tony said with a sigh.

Before he could say anything else, their office door opened, and Arnie walked in.

"Just the man we need to talk to," Tony said, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for a couple of reasons." Arnie sat down in the chair near Tony's desk. "First of all, that reporter? Brent Wilkins? He was taken in for questioning a little while ago in connection to the deaths of those young people you were concerned about. He hasn't confessed, but officers found some interesting things in his apartment. Could be souvenirs from the crime scenes. From what I was told, he seems pretty shaken up—and very guilty."

Tony looked at River and smiled. "Great job," he said. "I know you went on instinct, but you were right. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, but we both profiled him. And April provided the real clues." She frowned at Arnie. "Any disabilities? We profiled him as someone who might feel uncomfortable around people."

"The officers said he had trouble talking to them. He's a stutterer. Seems he writes his articles from his apartment. Doesn't get out much. I'm not saying he's their man, but if I had to bet my pension on it, I'd say he did it."

Tony shook his head. "That's amazing."

"Yes, it is. Thank you both for your help. Now," Arnie continued, "I know you said you'd come to get the thing we talked about, but I decided to bring it to you." He frowned at River. "You sure about this?" He took a small metal box out of his coat pocket and put it on Tony's desk.

"I am," she said. "It's the only way."

"Before we get into that," Tony said, "we have something else to discuss with you. In going through April's cases, we may have uncovered a serial killer."

Arnie's eyebrows shot up. "Another one? Let me get this straight. April Bailey's information has led to solving several cold cases—and now may uncover another serial killer? If this young woman is found alive, I want to talk to her. She needs to come to work for me."

River grinned. "I was thinking she should come to work for us ."

Arnie grunted. "You know as well as I do that there are more serial killers out there than the public knows about. Too many of them are getting away with it. A recent study said that there are over two thousand serial killers active right now. Killers who haven't been caught—and might not be. So any time we take one down, I'm relieved. Even if it's only a drop in the bucket." He sat down next to Tony's desk. "So, tell me about this one."

As Tony began to go over the flowers found at both murders, Arnie's face turned pale. "Are you okay?" he asked his friend.

"Not really. Recently, one of my detectives pointed out something about silk dogwood flowers discovered near a couple of bodies. One was in an apartment. We assumed they were some kind of decoration. There were a lot of broken items in the room, including a vase that was full of fresh flowers. The detectives in charge assumed the dogwood flowers were added to the vase to make the arrangement look larger."

"The two deaths April was investigating happened outside," Tony said. "Doesn't mean they're not connected, but as you know, serial killers are usually driven to follow established patterns. Even to the point of obsession."

"But what if our killer's signature is leaving the flowers at a crime scene—not where he leaves the bodies?" River interjected.

Tony nodded. "We've seen that before." He frowned at Arnie. "You mentioned a couple of bodies?"

"One was recent," Arnie said. "Very recent. A body found not far from here. She was in an alley, behind a small mall. Head bashed in. Our Crime Analysis Unit processed the items discovered at the scene. One thing they found was a sprig of white silk flowers. I might be wrong, but I have a strong feeling they were probably dogwood. Can you compile your information and email it here?" He picked up a pad of paper from Tony's desk. "She's the lead detective on the case. Before you send it, I'll let her know it's coming."

"Sure," Tony said. "By the way, were either of these victims disabled or sick?"

Arnie's eyebrows knit together. "I don't think so. I don't remember anything like that. Why?"

"Shelly Evans had MS, and Ted Piper was diabetic. Could be a coincidence, but we wondered about it."

"I'll check, but I don't think so. Were these physical problems readily apparent?"

"You mean would the killer have noticed it by just observing them?" Tony asked. "No, I don't believe so."

"Then I'd mark that down to coincidence, but I'll still run it by my detective. Sometimes catching these guys is like putting together a puzzle. You're never sure what piece goes where."

"You're right," Tony agreed. "Will you keep us in the loop? This might be the person who's been threatening us and Nathan—and who may have killed Kevin Bittner."

"Sure, not a problem." Arnie looked back and forth between them. "I'm still hoping for a confession from your Casanova guy. I'll keep you updated." He smiled at them. "So do you two plan to solve all of April's cases?"

Tony shrugged. "That would be nice, but it's probably unrealistic. Right now, we're trying to focus on our client, Nathan Hearne. He wants to know what happened to April. If this guy is responsible for these other murders, he may be the one trying to keep us from looking too closely at her cases. Which is good news and bad news."

"What do you mean?" Arnie asked.

"The good news is that we can give you a profile that should help you find him. The bad news is that if he's the one who took April, we can be almost certain that she's dead."